


Breaking Habits

by Elbeeinthewild



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Related, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Language, Slash Non-Graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 06:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14612154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elbeeinthewild/pseuds/Elbeeinthewild
Summary: Gibbs is finally ready to let Tony inside the walls he erected around his heart after Shannon and Kelly's deaths. When he's injured in an explosion, he loses all memory of their relationship. With the help of a certain scheming director, circumstances conspire to keep them apart.  Will they find their way back to each other? (Hiatus AU)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hinky_Hippo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinky_Hippo/gifts).



> *So* many thanks to Hinky Hippo for another piece of inspirational art. I fell in love with this piece last year when it was submitted for last year's RB, but ended up claiming another. I was thrilled to see it ended up not being used and was up for grabs again. Mine! :)
> 
> Spoilers for Hiatus 1/2, and a re-working of plot elements from S4. This story begins the night before Gibbs is injured in the explosion on the Bakir Kamir. Alternate Universe story. I know, I know...Hiatus has been done time and again. Well, I want my turn too :) I hope you enjoy my different take on it.
> 
> Special thanks to my beta and number one cheerleader/spaz wrangler. You're the best, A.

 

* * *

~May~

 

Tony headed down the basement stairs, two beers in hand. He set one on the workbench for Gibbs, who looked up from his work and acknowledged him with warm, blue eyes and a soft half-smile that never failed to give him a fluttery, warm feeling in his chest. They’d gotten home late, and were starving. After demolishing most of a pizza between the two of them, he’d cleaned up the kitchen. Gibbs disappeared to the basement, preoccupied with tomorrow’s op.  

 

Tony took his usual place near the bottom of the stairs and nursed his beer. He loved watching Gibbs work. It was warm down here today and Gibbs had shed his layers, down to just jeans and a t-shirt. The t-shirt must have been one of those he’d shrunk in the wash last week. It was a little snug now, Tony noted appreciatively. He enjoyed the play of muscles in Gibbs’ back and shoulders as he ran the hand sander over the wooden planks in long, gliding strokes. The soft rasp of sanding was relaxing and Gibbs’ movements hypnotic…almost sensual.

 

Gibbs started this boat not long after asking Tony to move in with him and it was almost complete. There was just some touch up sanding left, and soon they’d start with the varnish and paint. Gibbs even drafted him to help with it; unlike the last one. That boat had ended up in pieces and burned in the backyard not long before they’d become lovers. He’d ask Gibbs from time to time which ex this one was for. Gibbs always refused to tell him, knowing it drove him crazy. It had become a bit of a game, in which Tony found new and inventive ways to ask only to get the same enigmatic smile and head shake in answer. 

 

It bothered him sometimes, Gibbs’ weirdness about the boats and unwillingness to open up about his compulsion to build, and then destroy them. Even so, he loved Gibbs with all his foibles and had no interest in changing him. He just wanted to understand him a little better and Gibbs didn’t always make that easy.

 

So he started off their game with a playful line of questioning, only to be rebuffed with a terse “Not tonight, Tony, okay?”

 

Tony fought down a stab of hurt as he wondered what brought on the shift in mood all of a sudden. “Sure, Jethro. You worried about tomorrow?”

 

“No more than any other time I meet with a mole planted in a terrorist organization,” Gibbs said dryly, not looking up from his sanding.

 

“Okaaay,” Tony drawled sarcastically, letting Gibbs know he saw through the deflection tactic. Still, he wasn’t going to push Gibbs and decided to turn the conversation back away from work. He stood and stretched, feeling the vertebrae in his back pop as he did so. He walked around the boat, reaching out to run a hand down the smooth planks and feeling a sense of pride as he noted the parts he’d helped with.

 

“You must know a lot about the water and sailing, to put such detail into the boats,” Tony mused.

 

“I guess so,” Gibbs replied absently.

 

“Where did you learn about boats?”

 

“Told you; Dad and Leroy taught me about woodworking.”

 

“No, I meant sailing,” Tony clarified. “Where did you learn to sail? No place around Stillwater for big sailboats like this.”

 

“What makes you think I know, then?”

 

“Aw, come on Jethro. It’s been awhile but I know a little about sailing and can tell you do too. We should go sometime; I wouldn’t be a novice if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

 

“No,” Gibbs snorted.

 

“Are you just trying to avoid taking me sailing? We could rent one; it would be fun,” he prodded. “Maybe even take this one out when it’s done.”

 

Gibbs suddenly felt exposed, defensive. Tony innocently stumbled onto an old hurt he wasn’t prepared to talk about. Before he could stop it, he snapped at the younger man in anger. “I’m not going sailing w…” he stopped himself, but the implication in the unfinished sentence hung heavy between them.

 

Tony flinched back as if struck, the green eyes widening in hurt before turning flinty. “Go ahead; finish what you were going to say. “ _With me._ And just why the hell not?”

 

“Enough, Tony,” Gibbs said much more softly, realizing his instinctive response had hurt the younger man.

 

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Right; enough. Because God forbid you let me inside those damn walls you’ve built between yourself and the rest of the world. When are you going to let me all the way in, Jethro?” he asked plaintively. “Am I supposed to just spend the rest of my life settling for these little glimpses inside you allow me to have…for being your big secret?”

 

Gibbs sighed and scrubbed a hand over his eyes. He didn’t know how to talk about this. 

 

“Fine,” Tony said acerbically. “Don’t answer me, Gibbs.” He turned, his back rigid with hurt and anger, and walked up the stairs and closed the basement door firmly behind him.

 

Of course Tony’s insecurities would have him reading Gibbs’ hesitance as unwillingness to answer. He hoped he could fix this.

 

“Dammit.”

 

~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Gibbs gave it a little time before heading upstairs. They’d argued before and he’d learned that Tony was easier to talk to once they’d both had time to cool down. And as long as Gibbs made an effort not to be a jackass, Tony was pretty forgiving.

 

As he walked out into the kitchen, he could see all the downstairs lights were off, indicating Tony had gone to bed. In the master bedroom, his heart sank at the evidence that Tony was clearly more upset than he realized. The bedside lamp had been turned on for him, but the bed was still made and the room was empty. Tony had moved to the guest bedroom. 

 

He went across the hall and walked inside the guest room. He saw the huddled shape illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the blinds. Tony had his back to the door and his body stiffened when Gibbs sat on the opposite side of the bed, signaling he was still awake.

 

Gibbs reached out and laid a hand hesitantly on Tony’s bare shoulder. “I’m sorry, Tony.”

 

Tony’s eyes fluttered closed at the feel of that warm, calloused hand on his skin. “Sign of weakness.”

 

“Never with you, Tony.”

 

The stiff figure relaxed minutely and Tony sighed. “What are you sorry for, Jethro?” he asked, still facing away from Gibbs.

 

“For what I said…and for what I didn’t say. It’s still so hard to talk about them sometimes. It’s a hard habit to break; this silence.”

 

Tony turned over and looked up at Gibbs finally. His expression was sad; vulnerable, but understanding shone from his eyes. “What do I have to do to convince you I’m not threatened by them; by your memories of them? I _want_ to hear about them, whatever you want to share. I’m not your exes. You don’t need to box them away and pretend they don’t exist on my account.”

 

Gibbs reached out to caress Tony’s face. “What did I do to deserve you?”

 

“Good question,” came the irreverent answer.

 

“Are we okay, Tony?” Gibbs asked. His gut was uneasy about tomorrow and he didn’t want either of them distracted by an unresolved argument.

 

“As long as I know you’re still trying, Jethro, we’ll always be okay.”

 

Gibbs took Tony’s hand and gave a tiny tug. “Come to bed then… _our_ bed.”

 

A few minutes later they were settled in the other bed, face to face and legs tangled together.

 

Gibbs reached to pull Tony into his arms, needing the reassurance of closer contact. He was grateful when Tony came readily, settling his head on Gibbs’ chest and wrapping arm across his waist.

 

Tony hummed in pleasure as Gibbs’ hand stroked lightly through his hair. 

 

Gibbs began to speak and the body in his arms tensed ever so slightly in anticipation.

 

“I learned to sail when I was stationed at Camp Pendleton,” Gibbs began. “Kelly was fascinated by the boats and Shannon fell in love with the ocean. I took lessons, and we went sailing on summer weekends when I wasn’t deployed.”

 

“And the rest?” Tony asked softly.

 

“When you asked me to take you sailing, it felt like you were trying to take their place,” Gibbs admitted.

 

“I could never do that. I don’t ever want to try.”

 

Gibbs tightened his hold on Tony, moved by his generous spirit. “I know. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

 

Tony moved one hand up to Gibbs chest, over his heart. “All I ask is you make a place for me in here too.”

 

“You already have one,” Gibbs reassured him. “I know you don’t like the idea of us being a secret for all this time, but you _know_ why.” 

 

“Jenny.” 

 

They hadn’t been seeing each other long when Jennifer Shepard was named Director. A night spent taking comfort from one another after Kate’s death had quickly turned into something deeper, more meaningful, and exclusive. Gibbs had been upfront with Tony about his prior relationship with Jenny, and he trusted Gibbs’ judgment when he insisted she would react poorly to finding out about them. By mutual agreement, they’d kept their relationship from the others.

 

“You know as well as I do she’d use it as an excuse to transfer one of us,” Gibbs reminded him. “It won’t always be this way. There are some things we need to talk about, Tony; things I need to tell you,” Gibbs told him, sounding more than a little mysterious. “When the boat is done I’ll tell you all of it, and anything else you want to know. And if you’re still here after, then I think the need for secrecy won’t be an issue any more.”

 

Tony lifted his head to look Gibbs in the eye apprehensively. “If I'm still here? Why wouldn’t I be? You trying to scare me off, Jethro?”

 

“Not a chance in hell,” Gibbs said, an edge of possessiveness in his tone. “I’m just trying to say I’m almost ready to let you inside the walls. Breaking these old habits…I just need a little more time.”

 

Tony gave him one of those heart-stopping, beautiful smiles then leaned down and kissed him gently in answer. The sweet give and take went on for several minutes; not intended to arouse, but meant as an affirmation…a promise given and received.


	2. Chapter 2

All night, Tony felt like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and what he _wanted_ to do was collapse under it. He didn't have that luxury though, not with Gibbs comatose after the explosion on the Bakir Kamir. His mask had slipped a bit when a burned, bloody, and unconscious Gibbs had been carried from the ship. He'd wanted to follow with every fiber of his being, but Gibbs would be the first one to remind him he had a job to do. 

 

He worked the scene of the explosion with Ziva, projecting a sense of calm detachment while inside he was consumed with fear for the man he loved. He was almost thankful for Ziva needling him about being nice to McGee by giving him an assignment away from the blood and gore covered room. It lent a small sense of normalcy in a situation that was anything but normal.

 

The team needed him, and a steady hand, whether they realized it or not. McGee's earlier crack about him not being Gibbs, and the others piling on had gotten under his skin, although he hadn't let them see it. He reminded them none too gently that regardless, he _was_ the one in charge and refocused their attention from him, back to the investigation.

 

He owed it to Gibbs to carry on and Gibbs would expect no less of him. They'd done all they could for the time being. He'd sent Ziva and McGee home for a couple hours' sleep and with them gone, he could steal away to see Gibbs.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

As Tony approached Gibbs' room in ICU, he could see Ducky seated by the bed, talking to his friend in soft tones. He walked in and stood on the side of the bed opposite Ducky and looked down at his injured lover. He desperately wanted to reach out, to touch, and be reassured by feeling the warmth of Jethro's skin under his hand. Unable to give in to that need, his hands clenched around the bed railing instead. "Any change, Ducky?" He asked hopefully.

 

"Still unconscious, my dear boy." Ducky answered with a small shake of his head. "However, he is stable and the scans show no indication of serious brain injury."

 

"Well, that's something," Tony sighed. "Would you mind..." Tony hesitated, feeling awkward about asking Gibbs' oldest friend to leave the room. "Uh, could I have a few minutes with him?" 

 

Ducky gave him a long, assessing look and Tony wondered how much those sharp old blue eyes saw. "Of course, Anthony. I could use a spot of tea. I shall return shortly." Ducky rose stiffly and gestured at the chair he'd been using. Tony walked around the bed and sat, eyes on Gibbs the whole time. When he looked up, Ducky was gone and he was alone with Gibbs.

 

Tony pulled the chair closer and took Gibbs' hand. He leaned close and whispered words of love and of promises made; hoping the heartfelt entreaty would somehow be heard and be enough to bring Gibbs back from wherever he'd gone. 

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Jenny walked quickly toward ICU, she noted the click of her heels on tile echoed loudly in hallways that were nearly empty at this late hour. As she was buzzed into the ICU, she made a concerted effort to walk more slowly in spite of her haste to see Jethro.

 

She assumed Ducky would be with him and started in surprise upon seeing DiNozzo there instead. Jenny stood frozen, watching as DiNozzo leaned close, holding Gibbs' hand tightly and speaking into his ear. DiNozzo reached up and laid his other hand along Gibbs’ neck over his pulse point. She wasn't sure if the gesture was meant to comfort him, or Gibbs. The hand left Gibbs' neck and began to lovingly caress the part of his face unblemished by injury. 

 

She turned and stumbled away from the room, and the shockingly intimate scene. It couldn't be. Gibbs and _DiNozzo_? She couldn't believe it was true...but what she'd just seen suggested otherwise. She scoured her memory, looking for signs; things she might have missed that indicated Jethro was involved with anyone, much less DiNozzo. There were none, and Jethro's apparent deceit grated on her. She had to know for sure before deciding what to do about this, and left the hospital to do a little digging of her own.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Jenny pulled into the drive next to Gibbs' darkened house and shut off the engine. She climbed from the car, still pondering what she'd learned in her brief stop at NCIS as she headed for the door. She’d accessed DiNozzo's personnel file, looking for his address of record. He'd changed it sometime since she'd become director; now it listed a PO Box instead of his old apartment. She hadn't really expected him to be so bold as to list Gibbs’ house, but the PO Box was a pretty strong indicator DiNozzo was no longer keeping an apartment. Gibbs was listed as his next of kin, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. As far as she knew, other than an absentee father, DiNozzo had no family.

 

Next, she'd accessed Gibbs' personnel jacket. There it was. Right next to a Jackson Gibbs had been DiNozzo's name. Even then, she still hadn't wanted to believe it. Now she found herself standing on Gibbs' front porch torn between denial and needing to _know_ the truth. She let herself inside and waited for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. She felt her way to an end table and fumbled to switch on the lamp that sat there. 

 

At first, nothing stood out in the room but as she looked around, Gibbs’ red USMC sweatshirt caught her eye. It hung on the coatrack near the door, next to a brown leather jacket that could only be DiNozzo's. Feeling every bit like an intruder, she climbed the stairs and entered the master bedroom. The gut punch came as soon as she turned the light on. The door to the adjoining bathroom was open, two mens' robes hung side by side on the back of it. A peek in the bathroom revealed Gibbs old fashioned razor stored neatly next to a fancy electric one. On the sink, Gibbs' Old Spice next a bottle of hair gel that no doubt was used to create the artfully intentional chaos that was the younger man's spiky brown hair.

 

She backed out of the bathroom and opened the bedroom closet door to snoop. Her jaw clenched as she saw some of DiNozzo’s suits and casual clothes hung opposite Jethro’s polos and sport coats. Jenny turned to leave and as she took in the hastily-made bed, she suddenly imagined the two men there, naked and entwined, their glistening bodies moving together. Her eyes squeezed shut and she tore out of the room as if she could outrun the unwelcome images playing in her mind. 

 

Jenny paused at the bottom of the stairs and held onto the railing; dizzy, breathless and trying to regain her composure. Once she calmed, she looked around the rest of the ground floor rooms seeking more signs of DiNozzo living there. There were no obvious signs elsewhere on the main level and she wondered what that meant. There were no pictures; nothing obviously belonging to DiNozzo out in the open except the leather jacket. How serious could he _be_ about the younger man…and since when was Jethro into men _at all_?

 

She could see the attraction of bedding a handsome, charming younger man. Hell, _she_ wasn’t blind to DiNozzo’s…attributes. Still, she thought, looking around the rooms, they might share a bed but Jethro hadn’t let him completely move in. Whatever they were doing it had to be something superficial; just sex. Even so, a wave of irrational jealousy washed over her. So Jethro had himself a boy toy. As soon as he was back on his feet, she’d talk to him, put a stop to this. 

 

She thought back regretfully to their first meeting since they parted ways in Europe. She shouldn’t have been so hasty in freezing her ex-lover out when she took over the directorship from Tom Morrow. She was the one who’d set the tone that day in MTAC, putting the brakes on his suggestive comments and innuendo regarding their previous involvement. She’d brushed his remarks aside, establishing her authority and making it clear to him _she_ was in charge. Jethro backed off and ever since then, he’d been cool and professional. 

 

Now she realized she must have inadvertently closed the door on rekindling their relationship, instead of setting it aside for later when she could seek him out on _her_ terms. Jealously burned again as she recalled DiNozzo holding Jethro’s hand and tenderly stroking his face in the hospital. Fury joined jealousy as she considered their deceit and the possibility that perhaps she didn’t know Jethro as well as she thought.

 

She just didn’t understand…why wasn't it _her_ Jethro turned to when he was ready? He had obviously found companionship elsewhere, thinking her unreceptive. It _should_ have been her. And it would be again.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony walked through Gibbs’ house, looking for anything he might have missed. He had no idea how he was going to go on, seeing Gibbs every day at NCIS and knowing the man had no memory of their relationship. His joy and relief at hearing Gibbs had regained consciousness quickly turned to shock and despair on hearing he had amnesia. 

 

Then there was the director. In the hospital, he’d seen a flicker of something in her eyes when she’d told him about Gibbs’ amnesia. It looked like _satisfaction._ The way she’d watched him, as if gauging his reaction to the news. Did she know about them…and if so, how? He’d have to be very careful until Gibbs got better. He just _had_ to get better, Tony thought. 

 

Right now though, he was essentially a stranger to the man he loved. He knew Gibbs wouldn’t understand or welcome his presence here in the house. Not while in _his_ mind, the death of his family had just happened and he was lost in his grief. As soon as he saw Gibbs was beginning to push to sign himself out AMA, he’d returned to the house to remove any trace of his presence. Every trip to the car with a load of his things ripped out another piece of his heart.

 

More than once Jethro had said he loved him…if that were true, how could what they shared be so easily forgotten? What did it really say about his place in Jethro’s life that everything he’d kept at the house fit in his car and everything else he owned was in storage? Maybe none of it had been real to Jethro after all. All his old insecurities he’d thought buried for good under the warmth of Jethro’s love and care made a resurgence. He’d never felt as alone as he did in this moment, or been so confused and uncertain about what to do, where to go. Because they’d kept their relationship secret, there was absolutely _no one_ he could turn to or confide in.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Jenny sat at her desk sipping her drink and watching Gibbs warily. He was understandably distraught, having recovered enough of his memories in time to stop Pinpin Pula and save the Cape Fear and its crew, but couldn’t get Welsh to listen. He was furious with the powers that be, whose inaction allowed the completely preventable loss of life that they just watched in MTAC. Add to that the planned cover up of the cause of the explosion on the Cape Fear. The world would be led to believe it was a tragic accident, rather than a terrorist attack.  

 

Gibbs’ silence and faraway look was unsettling her. Once, she might have predicted how Gibbs would react, but no more. She tensed as he turned to her, eyes focused once again.

 

“I was wrong.”

 

She had no idea what he thought he was wrong about, but tried to reassure him anyway. “You weren’t wrong.”

 

He ignored her and went on as if she hadn’t spoken, sounding defeated. “I was angry at Mike. I never understood how he could quit…” 

 

Her stomach flipped as Gibbs paused. She now knew Mike Franks had quit NCIS after the bombing at the Khobar Towers. _No!_ She thought, sensing what was coming. _Not now!_

 

"Until now," Gibbs finished as he rose and turned to the door.

 

Shock had her momentarily speechless, but she recovered herself as Gibbs reached the door. “Gibbs, _wait_!” Her drink sloshed onto the desk as she hurriedly set it down and rushed across the office to stand next to him. “Don’t do anything rash…take some time.” She moved close, letting him feel the heat of her body, smell her scent, while putting a gentle hand on his cheek. “You have time on the books…take it.”   

 

He looked down at her impassively, shook his head and said simply, “I’m done. I don’t know what you want from me, but I’ve got nothing to give you.” He had no room for much of anything except going through the bitter pain of losing his family for the second time. “You aren’t going to convince me to stay here, so don’t try.”  

 

The triumph she’d felt at successfully insinuating herself back in Gibbs’ memories and influencing him was fading fast. She was angry at being rebuffed and suppressed a scowl as her thoughts turned to DiNozzo. Their visits to Jethro had overlapped and she’d taken a vindictive satisfaction in the realization that he still didn’t remember the younger man, or their relationship, whatever it was. 

 

Afterward, she’d kept DiNozzo working the case without a break, while in the hospital, she worked to remind Jethro they’d been lovers…heavily implying they were still much closer than they actually had been in recent years. It had worked too; he’d believed her. Now she was dismayed to realize it wasn’t going to be enough to keep him here.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Gibbs didn’t understand his reaction to the arguably very attractive woman leaning intimately close. His spotty memory supplied him with fleeting images of their lovemaking, seemly confirming at least some of what she’d told him. Still, he wasn’t sure she represented their relationship accurately, but the explanation for that gut feeling remained out of his grasp. All he knew was that he felt nothing for her. In fact her closeness was making his skin crawl. He stepped back, ignoring her stunned look, then turned and headed to the bullpen. 

 

They all looked up expectantly as he came down the stairs and went unerringly to the desk he somehow knew was his. He started searching the desk for his weapon and badge when DiNozzo spoke up.

 

_Tony_ , his mind supplied inexplicably.

 

“Oh, I’ve got them, Boss. I got them from the medics when they took you.”

 

“Appreciate it,” he said distractedly. He looked up to see the director standing on the landing watching him and the younger man inscrutably.

 

He turned back to DiNozzo and was pinned by a glimpse of a desperate appeal in the clear green gaze, something that called to him. It was gone as quickly as it appeared and he thought he might have imagined it. He handed DiNozzo his weapon and badge back. “You’ll do. It’s your team now.” He clasped the young man’s shoulder in a show of support.  The green eyes went hard and brittle at that. It made him feel guilty and he thought he should remember why it would.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Tony’s world shifted off its axis for the third time in as many days and he ruthlessly shoved down the emotions threatening to break free.  He’d had a brief, bright flare of hope when Ziva called from the hospital, saying Gibbs remembered and they were on their way in. He couldn’t hide the desperation in his voice as he’d asked her if Gibbs remembered _everything_.  She’d replied impatiently “he remembers enough.”  Ducky, Jenny, Franks, and Ziva all had their shot to help Gibbs regain his memories and _he_ didn’t seem to be one of those memories. All he’d really remembered about Tony was that he was a cop once upon a time, and that was more an educated guess than anything.

 

He’d naively thought things couldn't get any worse than Gibbs lying comatose after being caught in an explosion…oh, but they had. Gibbs didn’t even remember him after regaining consciousness, and what he _did_ remember about his life was nothing short of the worst nightmare imaginable. He stood there reeling internally, numb and in shock, holding Gibbs’ badge and gun in his hands. He could still feel the warm touch of Gibbs hand on his shoulder. _You’ll do_ , Gibbs had said, and Tony knew it meant it would be left to him to lead, hold the rest of them together, pick up the pieces and move on. Yeah, this was worse.

 

He swallowed hard, watching in a daze as Gibbs said his goodbyes to each member of the team. He didn’t just ache for himself; he ached for them too. He ached for Gibbs and couldn’t help; couldn’t comfort him, instead had to watch as Gibbs ran out on all of them, on _him,_ determined to battle his demons alone. They were all full of contempt and disdain for what had been allowed to happen on the Cape Fear but for Gibbs, with the loss of his wife and daughter suddenly fresh in his mind, it was all too much to bear. 

 

Gibbs walked away and left them with nothing more than a clipped “Semper Fi”. His mask firmly in place, Tony watched Gibbs get on the elevator with Ducky and no one in the room knew that on the inside, he was completely shattered. 

 

~A few hours later~

 

Tony pulled into Gibbs’ driveway and cut the engine. He was surprised to see Ducky’s car there. Apparently he wasn’t the only one with a compulsion to check on Gibbs. He was glad Gibbs wasn’t alone; with his Swiss cheese memories failing to fill in all the pieces properly, Gibbs was running purely on instinct right now.  

 

Tony came in through the kitchen door, as was his habit. He frowned to see the basement door open and no lights on. He headed toward the living room where a lamp glowed. Ducky sat in the old recliner, seemingly lost in thought. 

 

“Ducky,” he called softly, not wanting to startle the elderly doctor. 

 

“Anthony…what brings you here?”

 

Ducky’s voice was strangely sad, and it set Tony’s nerves on edge more than they already were. “Same as you I guess, Ducky. I wanted to check on Gibbs. Is he sleeping?”

 

“I’m sorry, Anthony, you’ve just missed him,” Ducky reported in a monotone.

 

Tony frowned. “What time will he be back? I’m surprised you let him drive,” Tony joked, trying to lighten Ducky’s strangely melancholy mood.

 

“You misunderstand, Anthony. Jethro is gone; he took a taxi to the airport a little while ago.”

 

Tony felt the blood drain from his face, and sat down hard on the couch. “Gone? What does that mean, Ducky? Where did he go?”

 

“I’m afraid he didn’t see fit to tell me that, Anthony. But it seems he has no plans to return. He’s asked me to close up the house and screen realtors to prepare it for sale.”

 

 ~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Tony had urged an exhausted and saddened Ducky to go home. He took Gibbs’ key ring from him, promising to take care of ensuring the house was clean, closed up and locked. He emptied the refrigerator and perishables from the pantry, took out all the trash, and unplugged unnecessary appliances.  He fished his own key chain out of his pocket and pulled his copy of Gibbs’ house key off its ring. Tears stung his eyes as he placed his key in Gibbs’ gun box, where he’d kept the spare until giving it to Tony after asking him to move in. It was a good memory for him. Just maybe in leaving the key there, he could keep a small flame of hope alive that Gibbs would find it and remember too.

  

Tony walked out, locking the door that was almost never locked as long as he'd known Gibbs and wondered where he might have gone. Running from NCIS and them wasn’t far enough, he’d felt driven to leave DC entirely. So much for Semper Fi…always faithful, his ass.

 

Gibbs didn’t abandon people he cared about; didn’t leave them behind. But that wasn’t _his_ Gibbs in the bullpen earlier. It was a stranger wearing his face…a stranger grieving the worst loss imaginable as if it had just happened. Now he was grieving too. 

 

The night before the explosion Gibbs promised to finally let him all the way in; he just asked for a little more time. Promised there would be no more secrets and had made a commitment to _them_. Everything he could have ever hoped for had been in his grasp, and now it was all gone like wisps of smoke on the wind.

 

He stopped and looked back at the house he’d called home for a time. “I should have known you'd break my heart, Gibbs, even if you didn't mean to. Seems like that's just what fate has in mind for me. I don’t know why I ever let myself believe this time would be different.”


	4. Chapter 4

~June~

 

Jenny looked at the stolen dossier in front of her and pondered the possibilities it represented. For years, she’d been carefully collecting information on the French international arms dealer and CIA mole known as ‘La Grenouille’. She also knew him as Rene Benoit; they’d met when her father was still alive. It wasn’t until after Jasper Shepard’s staged suicide that she uncovered the evidence that indicated Benoit was the man responsible for her father’s death. She’d been tracking him unsuccessfully ever since, but her current position of power was finally helping her make headway in her private pursuit of the man. Now, with the help of the new information in this dossier, she might finally draw him out of the shadows and take her revenge. 

 

It might also help her kill two birds with one stone, she thought, and get rid of her competition for Jethro’s attentions. According to Mike Franks, Jethro was getting better by the day and was reconsidering his impulsive decision to retire. There was a possibility he might regain his memories of a relationship with the younger man, so she had to move quickly and change her plan accordingly. She’d never filed Jethro’s retirement papers and instead placed him in medical leave status. She’d forged a change to Jethro’s next of kin designation and removed DiNozzo’s name. Now he wouldn’t be able to access information on Jethro’s medical status and she could put her plan in motion.

 

Rene Benoit had a daughter and in an amazingly fortuitous coincidence, Jeanne Benoit was here in DC. She was a physician in residency at a local hospital. He doted on her and was highly protective of her. That was where the charismatic and handsome DiNozzo came into the picture. She’d send him on an undercover assignment to charm and get close to the mark. Perhaps she could even manipulate DiNozzo into letting things progress to the point of sleeping with Jeanne Benoit.

 

Once he seduced the young woman, he might be ideally placed to find information about her fathers’ movements and activities. It could also draw the doting father out of hiding and in the open where she could get to him. Along the way, if it happened to ‘slip out’ and La Grenouille’s CIA handler found out somehow that a Federal agent was dating the arms dealer’s daughter, they might even intervene themselves to protect their asset, and get him out of the way.

 

It was a win-win situation even if DiNozzo managed to survive the assignment. If Gibbs came back, and happened to remember DiNozzo, he’d feel betrayed. It would be clear DiNozzo wasn’t serious about Gibbs if the older man being gone for a couple months was enough to have him dating and sleeping around.

 

A knock on the door put a hold on her plotting. “Come in.”

 

DiNozzo walked in, and she was annoyed to see a wary expression on his face. She’d have to be more careful about hiding her animosity toward him. She needed him trusting her authority…and unsuspecting of her true motives.

 

“You wanted to see me, Director?” he asked politely.

 

She smiled invitingly and indicated the chair in front of her desk. Once DiNozzo took his seat, she fired her opening salvo. “Agent DiNozzo, I have an assignment for you. One I wouldn’t trust to just anyone,” she fawned, hoping to appeal to DiNozzo’s ego. “I’m confident someone with your history and particular skill in undercover work can manage it.”  

 

DiNozzo listened attentively as she briefed him from her files on La Grenouille and implied the successful completion of this assignment had bearing on his promotion becoming permanent. He’d frowned at that, but hadn’t argued it. DiNozzo was no fool, but was uncertain of his standing with her and seemed to be carefully choosing his battles right now. Once she finished, he agreed to accept the assignment, in spite of the fact that she told him not to use his team for help or even back up. Jethro’s departure seemed to have left him even more vulnerable and off-balance than she’d thought. A cold, calculating smile twisted her features as she watched him exit the office. The wheels were in motion.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

~Several weeks later~

 

Tony signed off on the last of his team’s reports and looked at the clock. It was 2AM and he was supposed to meet Jeanne for breakfast before her 6AM shift began. He had no idea what the hell he was thinking in accepting this assignment. Jenny had become increasingly demanding, pushing him to work ever harder to glean information from Jeanne about her father. While she was attractive and intelligent, spending time with her only highlighted his hollow existence in the wake of Jethro running away to lick his wounds in solitude. It was also pretty clear to him that she knew nothing about her father’s arms dealing, yet Jenny was stubbornly insistent that he keep pursuing her. There was simply nothing to find; the woman was an innocent bystander to her father’s illegal activity. Jenny’s single-minded focus struck him as almost an obsession and he was convinced that she was involving him in something shady.

 

Things were slowly coming apart at the seams with the team too. As if it weren’t enough that his personal life was in shambles, now between case work and spending time with Jeanne, the hours he was putting in were insane. McGee and Ziva were useless ‘minding the store’ or even keeping up with their own work, much less being any damn help with investigations. McGee seemed to have taken the position that Tony was pawning paperwork off on him. Even when McGee did make the effort, in spite of Tony’s patient demonstrations, he still couldn't or wouldn’t complete the SFA paperwork on time or correctly. It was just easier to do it himself than fight with McGee about it.

 

Lately, they had taken to becoming disrespectful and insubordinate to the point that he’d been forced to place them both on report. The insults he could overlook but the disobedience could be dangerous if it happened in the field. They never would have treated Gibbs this way, and he was at a loss to explain why they felt it appropriate to do it with _him_. Jenny had frustrated him by refusing to file the reports in their personnel records or even reprimand them; telling him he needed to learn get a handle on his team without ‘damaging their careers’ unnecessarily. He decided to try again tomorrow to get her to see reason. Something had to give somewhere. He needed her to support him with the ongoing challenges to his authority and to fill the open spot on the team so he could stop working 20 hour days.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

“What is it, Agent DiNozzo? You have some developments to report on your _assignment?_ ”

 

“No ma’am,” he replied, intentionally annoying her with the form of address he knew she hated from him. He felt chilled by a brief, but distinctly unfriendly look in the gray-green eyes watching him. He wondered once more if she had any inkling about him and Jethro. Not that it mattered now. “Nothing new to report there; I’m here to address the issue of you continuing to look the other way while two members of your MCRT flout authority, and why you are dragging your feet on processing the paperwork to add a fourth to the team.”

 

“I have to wonder if you are putting forth your best efforts on this operation, Agent DiNozzo,” Jenny countered, ignoring his stated reason for requesting a meeting.

 

“Having done undercover work yourself at one time, you’re well aware these things can’t be rushed,” he argued. “It’ll only arouse suspicion if I start pushing to meet her family. Benoit has to believe it was his _daughter’s_ idea, not mine.”

 

She smiled coolly. “I’ll expect to results soon, on setting up a meeting with Miss Benoit’s father.”

 

“And the other matters?” he pressed. “Or is all the other work of the MCRT going to take a back seat to that op?”

 

Jenny pursed her lips and stared at him in annoyance. “Are you telling me you can’t handle it? Can’t keep your team in line? It _was_ you that bragged about being a two-man team with Gibbs for so long, wasn’t it?”

 

Tony’s eyes hardened at the insinuation he couldn’t handle being in charge and that McGee and Ziva’s behavior was somehow _his_ fault. “Well, as McGee, Ziva, and practically everyone else around here like to remind me lately, I’m not Gibbs. But then again neither are _they_ ,” he said with a sarcastic chuckle. “I'd like to remind _you_ that McGee hasn’t been out of his probationary period all that long and shouldn’t even be an interim SFA. Ziva isn’t even an agent. I need a fourth,” he insisted.

 

“I'll see what I can do,” she said agreeably, mainly as a delaying tactic to put him off. She had no intention of filling the fourth spot on the MCRT, knowing Jethro was reconsidering retirement. Unless DiNozzo happened to leave first…and he would one way or the other.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Tony gritted his teeth in frustration as he got back down to the bullpen and took in the empty desks. A quick glance at their workstations confirmed the computers were powered off and their bags were gone. They’d left early again. He’d just document it in his own log, since Jenny had been pretty clear about the fact that she wasn’t going to support him putting those two on report. What was with her, anyway? She seemed dead-set against rounding out the team again. 

 

Worse, her inaction over McGee and Ziva’s behavior was emboldening them to take their insubordination to the next level and countermand everything he’d tried to keep the team running smoothly. Jenny was undermining him and it felt deliberate. It was as if she wanted him to fail, at least at everything not related to this op she had him on. An op he now suspected was unsanctioned. He planned to do a little investigating of his own before he found himself even more over his head. Gibbs’ alternate rule three came to mind…don’t believe what you’re told, always double check.

 

Tony smiled wistfully as he sat down, intending to do some deeper research on Rene Benoit, looking for a connection to Jenny and any information she might not have disclosed to him. He remembered pestering Gibbs about why there were two rules assigned to that number. Gibbs had just smiled that maddening, half smile of his and never answered. His throat tightened and he blinked furiously as his eyes watered. _No dammit, I’m not going to do this here._ Tony tried very hard to ignore the feeling of wrongness that still overcame him when sitting at Gibbs’ desk, and the weight of the unwanted promotion thrust on him by circumstance. 

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Gibbs sat on the beach, taking solace in the warm sand beneath him, and the soothing crash of the waves. Mike was in town for a couple days and he was left alone with no one to talk to for the time being; no one to help him make sense of memory fragments coming back with no context and in no particular sequence. He was tired, having spent the night tossing and turning, his sleep broken by haunting dreams and images. 

 

Shannon and Kelly were in the forefront of his thoughts back in the first few weeks he was here as he processed the pain of their loss all over again. Lately however, the memories of his girls replayed far less frequently as his conscious mind began to remember and understand he was many years removed from their tragic loss. Now he seemed to be haunted by those he left behind in DC.

 

He was beginning to recover memories of longtime friendships and of the others as well. Abby and McGee he remembered fairly well now. Ducky seemed to be the one he remembered the most about, presumably because of their long association. Guilt shot through him as he remembered the older man’s obvious state of shock when Gibbs left him at the house, essentially bolting for the airport with no explanation and barely a goodbye. He’d lost too much; didn’t trust himself or his instincts. He wanted the isolation of Mike’s place in Mexico where there were no memories, good or bad. A place with only his old mentor’s rough-edged demeanor to keep him company, not the desperate need, loss, and pity he saw in the eyes of everyone at NCIS.

 

He had nothing to give them at the time, but that was slowly changing as he found himself remembering more. He sensed he’d left behind people who were as important to him as he had seemed to be to _them_. They’d all helped him remember bits and pieces but some things pulled at him more than others; Jenny and Paris, Ziva had helped him recall how she’d killed Ari to save him; there was Kate and the way she died. He kept thinking about Kate for some reason; he remembered her falling on that rooftop and it filled him with both anger and sorrow. Thinking of Kate made his mind wander to DiNozzo for some reason, and that brought on flashes of DiNozzo’s blood spattered face. That particular memory stole his breath; made him inexplicably fearful and anxious.

 

He felt strongly that retiring had been rash and he’d screwed up by leaving the way he did. The notion that he’d abandoned something he couldn’t recall yet tormented him. Whenever he thought of the young man with the expressive green eyes, the man he charged to lead his team, he felt a nagging sense of guilt he couldn’t explain. There had been something desperate and pleading in his expression when he handed over his badge and gun. When he told the younger man the team was his now, it was as if a switch had been thrown. The reaction surprised him and he didn’t know why. The young man’s face had become completely unreadable, closed off. 

 

The handsome features remained stony and expressionless, but those sharp green eyes watched as he said his goodbyes; stayed on him all the way to the elevator and were the last thing he saw as the doors slid closed. It unsettled him in a way he couldn’t define or explain.  He didn’t have it in him to care at the time, but now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was so strange; the face that haunted him now more than any of the others was the one he recalled the least about.

 

Somewhere in the back of his mind he was becoming aware that he’d left things undone and more importantly, that he’d left something behind. He had to know what it was and what DiNozzo had to do with it. The young man was important in some way apart from the others. Those memories were so close, but when he tried to grasp onto them they flitted further away out of reach. Maybe Ducky had some insight into what he was trying so hard to recall.

 

It occurred to him that the peaceful isolation he’d sought here in Mike’s company was no longer helping. There were no more answers to be found here; no more healing he could do. He was stuck and he was beginning to think about his future again. Not only that, the subconscious feeling of unease he’d had for some time evolved into a conscious urge to leave here and seek answers. The urge was drawing him back to DC.


	5. Chapter 5

~July~

 

Tony never needed Gibbs’ advice more than he did right now. But Gibbs was gone and he was the one left behind to deal with the aftermath from his sudden departure. Not to mention gaping wounds scarring his soul and the best thing that ever happened to him now lying in ruins. He was going through the motions like an automaton; just getting things done any way he could. 

 

He spent most nights in the office, unable to bear the dingy, lonely studio apartment he rented after moving out of Gibbs’ house. It was just somewhere to keep his few things that weren’t in storage and a place where he could quietly fall apart; safely vent his pain and bitterness that fate removed Jethro from his life so completely.   

 

Things were rapidly becoming unmanageable, he thought resentfully. He’d like to think he was still needed here. The others might need him but _they_ sure didn’t feel that way, if their actions were any indication. They didn’t want him, they wanted Gibbs. Even Ducky and Abby were so wrapped up in their own grief and disappointment over Gibbs’ absence they couldn’t see they weren’t the only ones who missed him. He tried being Gibbs and he tried being himself. Nothing he said or did worked; not with any of them except perhaps Palmer. The others though; they constantly measured him against Gibbs and found him wanting. He wasn’t enough for any of them. It was exhausting and it wasn’t going to change. 

 

He’d about reached his wit’s end with the workload, lack of support, and apparent apathy about his situation from those he’d considered friends.  Jenny was still dragging her feet on filling the open spot on the team. She was still sabotaging him as team lead and still finding fault with how he was running the team even though their case closure rate hadn’t changed since Gibbs left. She not only refused to act on disciplining Ziva and McGee; she encouraged them. It was as if she _wanted_ him to fail. 

 

Then there was the bullshit undercover mission she convinced him to take. Eager to please, and wanting to prove Gibbs’ confidence in him wasn’t misplaced, he’d accepted it without looking beyond the picture she’d expertly painted. He should have suspected from the beginning there was something not right about the job the director was asking him to do; something not on the up and up. 

 

His own little private investigation had turned up a few unexpected surprises. He had proof now that the mission the director sent him on was not only unsanctioned, but was stepping on the toes of an ongoing CIA operation. Not to mention the fact that he had no back up aside from her and he didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her. She was endangering her position and _his life_ , all for the sake of a personal vendetta and obsession with the man she believed killed her father.

 

Jenny seemed to have forgotten that he was just as skilled an investigator as he was an undercover operative…and she shouldn’t have. If she thought he was going to let himself be used to fulfill her personal agenda, she had another thing coming. He was done; done with Jeanne, with Jenny, and everyone else at NCIS. Not only that, he was done holding out hope for a miracle that was unlikely to happen. It was futile to keep hoping that Gibbs would remember what they meant to each other and come home. He just needed to pull himself together and move on with life and that would be easier to do someplace where he didn’t have to face constant reminders of what he’d lost. He filled out a transfer request and if she wouldn’t sign off on it, then it was time to consider his other options. Either way, that meant confronting Jenny.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

“Thank you for seeing me this late in the day, Director,” Tony said politely as he sat in one the chairs opposite her desk. It would do no good to piss her off right out of the gate; that would come later, he thought ruefully.

 

She nodded; an expectant look on her face as she replied. “You have an update for me on the Benoit case?” Why else would he want to see her after hours?

 

“I do, though probably not the one you want to hear. I’m pulling myself off the assignment and requesting a transfer out of this office.” He slid the folder with his transfer request in front of her.

 

“ _What?”_  

 

“The woman doesn’t know anything about her father’s arms dealing. There’s no reason to keep pursuing her, and things are reaching a certain…point of no return, if you get my meaning.”

 

“Isn’t she attractive enough for you?” Jenny asked snidely.

 

“Oh, she’s plenty attractive,” he drawled, “but that’s _not the point_.” 

 

Jenny’s eyes narrowed. She leaned toward him, her voice low and her tone cool. “Is there some other reason? Someone _else_ you’re involved with, perhaps?” she asked, her voice heavy with meaning.

 

S _he knows dammit…somehow she knows_ , Tony thought. So that’s what all this was about; him and Gibbs. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of an answer. It was none of her goddamn business. 

 

“It wouldn’t matter if I were,” he answered, refusing to confirm her suspicions. “I don’t need to sleep with her to know she can’t help us catch her father.” 

 

“If you continue seeing her, eventually she will introduce you to him,” Jenny insisted. 

 

“Then what?” Tony asked, tilting his head at her. Her silence was telling.

 

Jenny hesitated, caught off guard by his question. She covered her discomfiture by attempting to turn the tables. “Agent DiNozzo, I’d like to remind you that just because Gibbs told you it was your team doesn’t mean I have to accept it. You’re on probation and your permanent promotion to team lead of the MCRT is entirely contingent on my satisfaction with your performance…something which is in doubt at this point. I suggest you reconsider your position on the assignment and get back to work.”

 

“I’ve already broken it off with Jeanne Benoit, so there’s nothing to go back to there. So, the transfer?” he asked.

 

Jenny was infuriated almost beyond reason at that. DiNozzo was _ruining_ her carefully laid plan. “If you aren’t cutting it here, what makes you think I should even retain you at all, much less transfer you?” she asked scathingly.

 

Tony blinked. She was going so far as to threaten his job over this?  Two could play that game. “You shouldn’t have involved the agency in this, you know. I have a feeling the only reason you did, was because Gibbs wasn’t here to stop you.”

 

Her voice was glacial. “What exactly do you mean by that?” 

 

“I’m an investigator, Director. This whole La Grenouille thing stunk to high heaven from the beginning. So I investigated…and I know exactly what your connection is to this case.” He watched as her fair complexion flushed with anger. “I encourage you to drop it and no one will be the wiser about what I found. Sign me off for the transfer and I’ll be out of your hair.” 

 

Jenny was indignant. How _dare_ he investigate her and how much did he really uncover? Could he be bluffing? “It’s extremely _unwise_ to threaten me, Agent DiNozzo.”

 

“Threaten? Hardly; I prefer to look at it as saving your position and my ass. I think a little gratitude is in order, you know? Because if you keep going with this, it isn’t going to end well for you,” he warned. “Screwing with the CIA’s op…stealing that little dossier from them. _Really_?”

 

Jenny glared menacingly. “You aren’t Gibbs. You don’t have what it takes to go head to head with me, DiNozzo.”

 

He grinned irreverently, letting her know her attempt to intimidate him wasn’t working. “You might be surprised.” He leaned toward her, letting his own voice go ice cold. “Are you willing to take a chance on being wrong about me?”

 

It seemed he wasn’t bluffing; he knew about La Grenouille’s CIA connection. No longer bothering to hide it; her eyes glittered with malice. She looked down at the folder and opened it to see what DiNozzo applied for. _Rota_ , she huffed. He’d applied for the very position she intended to dangle as a carrot to keep him working on the Benoit case. He wasn’t getting it _now_ ; that was for sure.

 

“Rota is no longer available,” she said icily. “I’ve made a verbal offer to Agent E.J. Barrett for that spot,” she lied baldly. “She’s already selected a SFA,” Jenny added, heading off his next question and making a mental note to contact Barrett in the morning. 

 

“Alright,” Tony said, realizing she wasn’t going to give him a prime choice. Maybe he would start talking to Fornell instead, if she didn’t offer something agreeable. “What position are you willing to transfer me to?”

 

“Philadelphia has a team lead opening.” 

 

“Are you kidding? I assume you’ve read my record.”

 

“Of course,” she said dismissively.

 

“Then you’re well aware it wouldn’t be prudent for me to take a high profile job there. Macaluso might be in prison, but his reach is pretty long,” Tony said, suppressing a shiver as he recalled his last long term undercover assignment. It nearly got him killed. The way Jenny was looking at him, she’d be quite happy for the Macaluso family to get another chance at him. “No thanks.”

 

She smiled ruthlessly. “Beggars can’t be choosers you know.” She recalled the NCIS office at the Portsmouth Navy Yard in Maine needed a lead agent, the last one having died in a recent accident. The backwater posting would take him far enough away to where he and Jethro wouldn’t cross paths again once he decided to return from Mexico. 

 

“Still, we must try to accommodate you, hmm? How do you feel about New England?”

 

They discussed details for a time. “Fine,” he agreed when they were done. He rose and headed for the door. “I’ll start making preparations to leave.”

 

“You do that,” she replied caustically. She picked up another folder on her desk and tilted it toward him. It was Gibbs retirement package, still unprocessed. DiNozzo didn’t know that though. “One more thing,” she said, smiling viciously as he turned back toward her. “Gibbs’ papers, she said succinctly. “He’s _not_ coming back, you know.”

 

He couldn’t help the tiny flinch at that and it wasn’t hard to see the light of triumph in her eyes. Tony didn’t know how much longer the mask was going to hold up, so he was glad to be done sparring with the conniving bitch. He suppressed any further reaction and lied through his teeth; simply saying, “Fine by me.”  He knew Gibbs better than she did. Gibbs _would_ be back; just not his _Jethro_.

 

Maybe it was cowardly of him, but he just didn’t want to stay and see that become reality. Jethro was trapped in the past; wrapping himself up in the memories of what he’d lost and taking comfort in them. That wasn’t how _he_ was wired, Tony thought. He needed to throw off the suffocating cloak of what he’d lost to move forward. 

 

As he descended the stairs, he realized something inside him that had been dying a slow death since Jethro left finally gasped its last breath. He was done trying to hold on to something that just didn’t exist anymore. This transfer would give him a fresh start.


	6. Chapter 6

~August~

 

Ducky sighed. He really should have caught on to this before now. A simple trip to Gibbs’ house to locate the deed to the home had yielded a shocking revelation. Anthony’s sudden, unexplained transfer weeks ago made so much more sense now. He felt sad and guilt blossomed as he recalled Anthony’s awkward and rushed goodbye last month. 

 

“I still don’t understand, Tony. Why transfer all of a sudden?” Palmer asked, while Ducky looked on with an air of disappointment.

 

“It’s not sudden. I’ve worked out a week’s notice and the fact that no one understands is _exactly_ the problem.” 

 

“What do you mean, Anthony,” Ducky frowned. “How can we help?”

 

Tony’s expression was bitter as he answered. “It’s past the time now, where anything you could say or do will help, thanks to Director Shepard and those two boneheads upstairs. I’ve only stayed the extra week because I couldn’t go with no warning. I’d feel like I deserted you all, not that anyone seems to appreciate the effort. Doing that would make me no better than Gibbs.”

 

“The others need you now more than ever, Anthony,” Ducky insisted.

 

Tony gave a harsh chuckle. “I am the last person those two need…or want,” he said disdainfully. “And Abby…you think she needs a _trainee_ around, a poor imitation that does everything wrong in her eyes because it isn’t _Gibbs_ ’ way?

 

Ever the peacemaker, Palmer said “I’m sure she doesn’t mean anything by all that, Tony.”

 

Tony stiffened at that; he felt like a piano wire, strung too tight and on the verge of breaking. “Don’t defend her to me,” he said curtly. “Have you seen her little altar to Gibbs? Do all of you think _you’re_ the only ones who miss him?” His voice was tightly controlled as he went on. “Don’t defend _any_ of them to me. I did the best I could by all of you, and it wasn’t enough. None of you have any idea what _I’ve_ lost.”

 

They were shocked speechless at Tony’s vehemence.

 

Tony closed his eyes and sighed. These were the last two people he wanted to lose his temper with right now. They’d hurt him too, but not like the others. If only they would just _see_.

 

“Things can’t stay the same forever,” he said, softening his tone. “If I’ve learned anything in these last couple months, it’s that. I don’t fit here anymore. It’s time to move on,” he said, regret coloring his features. “Will you do something for me, Ducky?”

“Of course, my boy,” Ducky agreed readily, wanting to ensure they parted on good terms.

 

Tony reached into his jacket and pulled out a sealed envelope. “When Gibbs comes back, give him this letter…but _only_ if he remembers me,” he requested, handing the letter to Ducky.

 

“Tony, how do you know he’s coming back?” Palmer asked.

 

Tony just smiled. “He’ll be back. Ducky…” he repeated, pointing at the letter in Ducky’s hands. “Promise me you’ll only give him that if he remembers.”

 

“I promise, Anthony. Is there anything else we can do?”

 

“Just take care of yourselves and each other as best as you can.”

 

Ducky recalled studying the young man as he turned to leave. That wasn’t the happy go lucky Anthony he knew; he was hardened, hurt, and jaded. He didn’t completely understand why until now and he should have seen it. In hindsight, there had been so many signs; things that told a story none of them had ever suspected.

 

He vividly remembered the day at the hospital when Anthony asked for time alone with Jethro. He’d attributed the fear and concern the young man couldn’t quite hide as worry for a friend and mentor. Later, Anthony’s almost obsessive pre-occupation with the fact that Jethro couldn’t remember him…now it made sense. When Anthony found him alone at Jethro’s home the night he’d left for Mexico, Anthony had parked behind the house and come in through the back door, not the front like everyone else who visited. As if it were a long-established habit and he was more than a casual visitor. 

 

Finally, he recalled Anthony’s deathly pale and shaken look at hearing Jethro had gone away. He saw _many_ things about the interactions between Anthony and Jethro in the last year or so in an entirely different light now. That boy’s masks were better than he ever suspected and he was coming to realize that this situation was far, far more tragic than he’d originally thought. 

 

_None of you have any idea what I’ve lost,_ Tony had said.

 

How poignant those words were now, in the proper context.

 

Ducky replaced the deed where he found it; wondering if Jethro had recovered any more missing time and memories in the last few months. He’d have to come back at some point if he really intended to sell the house and this was going to make it complicated. 

 

Tomorrow, he’d enlist Abigail’s help. He had a phone call to make.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

“Jethro,” Ducky pleaded, “Please don’t hang up.”

 

“How did you get this number? I already told Shepard I’d be back when I was damn good and ready. Never mind; it was Abby wasn’t it?” Gibbs resignedly answered his own question.

 

“Yes, it was Abigail. I wasn’t sure when you’d call me again, so I prevailed upon her to provide a little assistance in reaching you,” Ducky explained. “We need to talk about the house, Jethro. If you wish to proceed with the sale, there are matters that must be attended to first.”

 

Ducky heard a deep sigh, then silence that stretched uncomfortably long. “Jethro?”

 

“What matters?” Gibbs finally answered.

 

“Your belongings for one; the other is the deed.”

 

“It doesn’t matter about that, Ducky. I appreciate all you’ve done, but I’m going to hang on to the house for now. I’m not sure retiring is really what I want to do.”

 

“I see,” Ducky said hesitantly. “You are coming back then? Jennifer hasn’t shared that news with us, or I might not have bothered you. When…?”

 

“I don’t know, Ducky. I still have leave and sick time left. I…I’m not ready to come back just yet, but soon. You said something about the deed?” Gibbs prompted, changing the subject.

 

“You’ll have something to address if you ever intend to sell the house. Do you remember changing the deed?” Ducky asked carefully.

 

Gibbs frowned before answering, racking his brain and coming up with nothing. “No, I don’t. Why?” There was still so much missing time in his memories.

 

“Ah. Well this is awkward,” Ducky said. He was unsure whether or not it was wise to tell Gibbs something so potentially disconcerting, and that he hadn’t recalled on his own yet. 

 

“Ducky? Is there a problem I need to know about?”

 

“Well, I’ve done some of the pre-sale work and found that your name is not the only one on the deed.”

 

“Oh hell,” Gibbs growled, remembering he’d remarried multiple times after Shannon’s death, but not the details. “Don’t tell me there’s one of the damn ex-wives on the deed to my house.”

 

“Not exactly.”

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Ducky hung up the phone, and the anger he’d been feeling at Jethro on his own behalf fizzled away. Originally he was confused and hurt by his friend’s abrupt departure and heartsick for Abby, who was stuck in her own grief-stricken little world. 

 

None of them considered that Tony might be faltering too. Not only dealing with a Director who saw him as a rival, he was saddled with two team mates who, instead of coming together in a united front to carry on in Gibbs’ stead, had unexpectedly turned on him. All while he was coming to terms with his own unimaginable loss.

 

Ducky had been selfishly angry at his oldest friend for keeping the secret of his first wife and daughter, but he’d come to his senses. Jethro didn’t owe him the knowledge of that tragedy. Now he was angry on behalf of someone else. It saddened him that his friends felt they couldn’t confide their secret in him, but he didn’t blame them.

 

Jethro was returning soon and wanted to know about DiNozzo. He claimed not to remember much, but Ducky got the impression that was changing; that he was beginning to remember details about the younger man and needed help sorting them. The revelation of Anthony’s name on the deed to the house confirmed what he believed was true, that his two friends had been involved in a serious relationship. Jethro’s return was too little too late, now that Anthony was gone. He just wished he would have seen it all sooner, when it might have made a difference.

 

He would have to find a way to explain to Jethro how the emotional stress of remaining here had become untenable for Anthony, in light of the circumstances. He’d been ‘alone’ for months before he’d even been transferred. Gibbs in his current condition had no idea how his presence loomed large in their lives and his sudden absence left them adrift. To varying degrees, they felt lost and alone…Anthony in particular. Dealing with Abby had to have been torture for him. Every trip to the lab he had to see her Gibbs shrine; hear her resentment that he wasn’t Gibbs, and tolerate her incessant, entitled demands to bring Gibbs back. So he finally left, starting over alone as he’d done so many times before, Ducky realized.

 

What Anthony said was true; he had been trying so hard to take care of all of them and there was no one to take care of or console him. And he had lost more than any of them. How abandoned he must have felt, especially in light of his history. Ducky couldn’t help but wonder how much of Jethro’s memories had returned to him, and if anything could be salvaged out of all this. He’d do what he could to help put things right, but ultimately it would be up to them.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

~September~

 

Gibbs opened his eyes and sniffed, as the promise of caffeine woke him from a restless sleep. He trudged tiredly to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee from the pot. He couldn’t for the life of him remember when he’d gotten a programmable coffee pot, or learned how to use the damn thing, but he was glad to have it. There was something to be said for not having to wait. He carried the cup back to the bedroom and began his morning ablutions. 

 

He’d passed his fit for duty evaluation and would be going back to work today. He supposed he had Jennifer Shepard to thank for that. She’d placed him on leave instead of filing his retirement package with HR. He was going to have to set her straight sometime soon. She’d been overly familiar, forward, and damned intent on ingratiating herself to him. It unnerved him and he was still trying to work out why. So many things had come back to him, but the reason for his discomfort with her wasn’t one of them. Ducky kept giving him these strange knowing looks and telling him to be patient; that there was no reason to believe it wouldn’t all come back eventually, probably when he least expected.

 

He’d have plenty to keep himself occupied aside from working on the gaps in his Swiss cheese memories. Thanks to Shepard, he had no team to come back to. He’d made his displeasure clear when he’d returned, and challenged her handling of the situation. Her response gave him more questions than answers.

 

“You broke up my team?” he’d asked incredulously after learning the MCRT had been disbanded. She transferred the man he’d left in charge of his team with no explanation, and something about it set his gut to churning. McGee had been moved to cybercrimes and Ziva chose to return home rather than accept a transfer to the counterterrorism branch.

 

“What was I supposed to do Jethro? DiNozzo wasn’t getting the job done and put me in a difficult position,” she lied shamelessly. 

 

He fixed her with a steady gaze. “I find that hard to believe.”

 

“Nevertheless; I had to transfer him, and after that, I couldn’t leave McGee and David without supervision. Now that you’ve returned, they can move back to the MCRT and you can select a new SFA and junior agent.”

 

Gibbs couldn’t help the feeling that she was leaving out a great deal and no one seemed to be able to tell him the details of what happened while he was gone. Shepard remained tightlipped about it, and he wondered what it was she didn’t want him to know.  

 

According to _her_ , DiNozzo had been a complete failure as a team lead, but that didn’t ring true. He must have been doing _something_ right, because the MCRT’s case closure rate hadn’t dropped; at least not until DiNozzo left. No matter…now that he was back, he could look into it for himself, he thought as he headed for the door. 

 

Out of habit, he stopped at his gun box, unlocked it and reached inside, only to feel nothing there. Confused, he reached in the box again, then it hit him and he gave a short laugh. He’d just fallen into an old familiar pattern, briefly forgetting he hadn’t been issued a new service weapon yet. Just as he was about to close the lid and re-lock the box, a glint off metal caught his eye. He tilted the box and looked inside. A key lay on the foam bottom of the box…his extra house key. Something compelled him to pick it up.

 

He blinked rapidly as a rush of memories hit in unrelenting waves. Intense and overwhelming, they played rapid-fire behind his closed eyes. He was beginning to feel dizzy and numb. Key clenched tightly in his fist, he backed away from the box until he bumped into something. His legs buckled, dumping him awkwardly on the sofa and he sat there rocking; dazed as the memories continued to come. 

 

DiNozzo. No… _Tony_.

 

There was a lump in his throat that didn’t want to go away. 

 

_What had he done? How could he have forgotten this?_

 

Suddenly he was aware of the key biting into his palm and opened his hand. He felt a physical jolt as the memory of giving Tony this key came back to him.

 

They’d been in bed. They were sweaty, sated, and basking in the afterglow of lazy, weekend morning sex. He’d been thinking about this for a while and lying here with Tony in his arms, he knew it was the right time. Once they’d caught their breath, he’d laid a warm hand on Tony’s cheek to get his attention. The brilliant green eyes opened and Tony had smiled softly.

 

“I have something for you,” Jethro began.

 

The green eyes flashed with pleasure and his smile widened to a wicked grin. “Already?” he asked as a hand drifted down his belly. 

 

Jethro captured the wandering hand and brought it up to his chest. “I’m serious.”

 

At that, Tony raised himself up on his elbow and looked down at him curiously. “Okay…what is it?”

 

He turned and pulled the key from where he’d hidden it in the nightstand, put the key in Tony’s free hand and closed his fingers around it. “I think it’s time you had your own house key,” he said.

 

“Is this supposed to be some grand, romantic gesture, Jethro?” Tony teased.

 

“Grand romantic gestures aren’t my style. Sometimes it’s the simple things that have more meaning,” he said sagely.

 

“Maybe the meaning isn’t as simple as you think. You’re giving me a key to a house you never lock, you know.”

 

“It’s symbolic, wise ass,” he said, smacking Tony lightly on the backside to emphasize his point. I want you to feel like it’s your house too, and know the doors are never locked to you.”

 

Tony had proceeded to enthusiastically show his appreciation for the gesture, which led to them becoming sweaty and sated all over again.

 

The wave of returning memories seemed to have ebbed for the moment; receding and leaving him feeling shocky and disoriented. Gibbs swallowed down the lump in his throat and with a shaking hand; he pulled out his cell phone and dialed.

 

A softly accented voice answered on the second ring. 

 

“Ducky…” he stopped, his heart was racing and he was breathing harshly.

 

“Jethro, what is wrong? Are you all right?”

 

“I…I’ve remembered some things,” he answered, hating the quaver in his voice. “I’d like to talk to you…can you come?”

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Ducky packed away his instruments and proclaimed Gibbs sufficiently recovered from the shock of regaining a large block of memories all at once. He set his medical bag aside, leaving it open for now. The envelope Anthony gave him before leaving was tucked into the bag and he was glad it occurred to him to bring it. When Jethro called him to say he’d remembered something, some intuition told him it would involve the younger man. 

 

“I see why you wanted me to remember about the deed on my own. It’s Tony, isn’t it?” Gibbs asked. He’d resisted at first, wanting to know. Ultimately, he trusted Ducky’s judgment and theory that it would come to him eventually, just as most of his other memory gaps had gradually filled in.

 

“It is,” Ducky answered quietly. “What brought it back?”

 

“I found Tony’s house key,” he said, pointing at the brass key on the coffee table.

 

“Ah. What else do you remember?”

 

“It’s not all there, but most of it, I think. He doesn’t know about the deed…it was going to be a surprise,” Gibbs said sadly. “Why did he leave…do you know?”

 

“I believe our dear Director had a little something to do with it, but the rest is Tony’s story.”

 

Gibbs shook his head at that. His adverse reaction to her continued flirting and innuendo made much more sense _now_. He watched, puzzled, as Ducky opened his medical bag and pulled out an envelope. “I believe this might hold some of the answers to your questions, Jethro.”

 

Gibbs took the offered envelope and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

 

“Yes, it’s from Tony,” Ducky confirmed. “He made me promise to give it to you _only_ if you remembered him. I don’t think he held out much hope that you would, or he might have stayed.”

 

“Do you know what’s in it?” Gibbs asked.

 

“I do not…but judging by the state that boy was in when he left, I expect it will not be easy to read.”

 

Ducky picked up his bag and stood. “I shall leave you to it. If you need me, you have only to call.”

 

Gibbs stared at the envelope for long moments after Ducky had gone. Finally, with trembling hands, he opened it and read every heart wrenching word.

 

_Oh Tony…I’m so sorry._

 

It was going to take a hell of a lot more than an apology to make this right.


	7. Chapter 7

~October~

 

After going on two months, Tony still wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing by taking the Portsmouth transfer. He’d rather be back in DC, in the thick of things but from a personal standpoint, he’d needed an escape. This was just a place to be until the desire to find something different came along. It wasn’t a bad job really. Jenny had definitely shuffled him off to the back of beyond; her petty retaliatory move for the various things he’d done to piss her off…like breathing for one.

 

The Portsmouth Naval Yard on Maine’s southern coast was home to a shipyard that overhauled, repaired, and retrofitted Navy submarines. He was the lead agent for the small NCIS office there and also had oversight of the NCIS field office at the submarine base in Groton, Connecticut. He spent a lot of time traveling back and forth. The job kept him unexpectedly busy, for which he was immensely grateful. As weeks passed, the knife-sharp pain of losing Jethro was slowly fading and his mask of carefully cultivated detachment was easier to maintain. 

 

He compared it to his bad knee…his skin looked fine on the surface. Underneath, there was an ever-present dull ache that could unexpectedly flare to life; pulsing and throbbing with a fiery pain. Those moments, when he was alone in his rented room and had time to think, were the most dangerous. It was all he could do not to crawl into a bottle and stay there. He found it ironic; Jethro lost his memory and he wished he could lose _his._

 

His partner shifted in the car seat next to him, pulling his attention back to the business at hand. Mark Baker was the sole agent in the Groton NCIS field office. He’d been running an investigation into a group of submariner sailors running an illicit drug ring. Baker had recently identified the two responsible for drug distribution on base and Tony wanted to back him up when the bust went down.

 

Today was the day and they were just waiting for their suspects to make an appearance. Tony, Mark, and the base MPs were waiting for the two suspects to leave the sub and they would apprehend them at the pier.  

 

“That’s them,” Mark said, looking through binoculars. “They’re coming across the gangway now.”

 

“OK, alert the MPs,” Tony directed.

 

“Roger.”

 

Tony checked his weapon then kept watch while Mark used his earwig to alert the nearby MP’s that the suspects were coming across to the dock. 

 

“Dammit,” Tony hissed. “The MP’s moved too soon and spooked ‘em. Let’s go!”

 

Tony and Mark exited the car and took off running toward the gangway and their suspects. One made it off onto the dock and Tony shouted at the MPs. “Take that one! We’ll take the sub!”

 

The other suspect panicked when he saw his escape blocked, foolishly retreating back across the gangway and through the hatch to re-board the sub. 

 

As Tony and Mark followed, cautiously descending the ladder into the sub, a gunshot was heard.

 

“It’s a submarine, jackass…where do you think you’re going to go?” Mark mumbled irately.

 

“Right now, he’s an _armed_ jackass who’s just cornered himself, so keep your head on a swivel.”

 

“Got it,” Mark nodded as he jumped off the ladder onto the deck behind Tony. 

 

Tony peered carefully around the ladder and cursed. Their suspect wasn’t as completely panicked as they’d first thought. He’d come back inside to grab a hostage. 

 

He edged into the open, covering the suspect with his weapon and saw Mark in his peripheral vision doing the same.

 

“Stop! Don’t come any closer!” the suspect screamed at them. He was backed up against the opposite bulkhead; arm around the neck of another crew member and holding a gun to his head.  

 

“Petty Officer Jackson,” Tony said calmly. “Why don’t you let him go? Don’t make this any worse than it already is.”

 

“We’re leaving…move aside or I’ll shoot him! I _will_ ,” he shouted, his eyes desperate as they flicked toward the ladder.

 

“Where are you going to go?” Tony asked reasonably. “The MPs are outside on the dock; we’ve got your partner and intercepted your drug shipment. It’s over. No one has to get hurt now…let us help you.”

 

The suspect slumped, loosening his grip on his hostage and that was when disaster struck. The loud bang of a hatch cover somewhere close by startled the suspect. He flinched hard and his gun discharged.

 

Tony heard the ping of a ricochet and almost simultaneously felt the bullet rip through the muscles in his left upper arm. He stumbled back against the bulkhead behind him, briefly lowering his weapon. 

 

“Tony!” Mark shouted. 

 

“I’m OK,” he answered as he regained his balance. It didn’t feel too bad yet; not with all the adrenaline coursing through his system. He ignored the pain and raised his weapon again, feeling the trickle of blood inside his jacket sleeve.

 

The suspect had tightened his grip on his hostage again and his eyes shifted wildly around the compartment, looking for a way out. 

 

“I didn’t mean it!” he yelled from behind his human shield.

 

Mark frowned as he noticed blood seeping steadily from Tony’s jacket sleeve, falling in fat drops onto the deck. “Tony…” he said uneasily.

 

“It’s fine,” Tony told him, keeping his focus on the suspect. “Look Jackson, we know it was an accident, don’t we, Mark?” he said, calm reassurance in his voice.

 

“Right, just an accident,” Mark agreed, trying to ignore blood dripping from his partner’s arm even more rapidly with every passing second. They needed to end this _now_.

 

“We know you didn’t mean to hurt anyone…” Tony placated. “Just like you don’t want to hurt your crew mate there.”

 

Tony stiffened his arms against the tremors starting to develop. _Come on, kid_ , he thought, _drop it_.

 

“That wasn’t supposed to happen…you tell them I didn’t mean it,” Jackson insisted.

 

“We’ll tell them,” Mark assured him. “We just need you to drop the gun now.”

 

Jackson relaxed his death grip on the crewman and dropped the gun in his hand, staring vacantly at the deck.

 

Mark quickly moved in while Tony covered them, kicking the weapon aside and cuffing the suspect. “Clear,” he called, using the earwig to alert the MPs outside. “Move in.”

 

“Oh good,” Tony said. This was bad; the blood loss was starting to make him nauseous and shaky. Dark spots were creeping into the edges of his vision. He moved unsteadily backward and leaned against the bulkhead, leaving an ominous trail of blood drops on the deck. 

 

Suddenly Mark was there easing him down to sit on the deck; carefully pulling off his jacket and grimacing at the blood-soaked sleeve. “Shit,” he breathed when he got a look at Tony’s blood-covered arm, still bleeding freely.

 

Tony flinched and hissed in pain as Mark clamped a hand over the wound and made eye contact with a nearby sailor. “Call an ambulance now, and get a corpsman in here,” he ordered sharply.

 

Blood leaked steadily from between Mark’s fingers and he pressed harder. He looked grim as Tony barely responded to the new application of pressure. “Looks like the bullet nicked an artery; that’s some kind of luck you got, DiNozzo.”

 

“Story of my life,” Tony slurred. Then the dark spots coalesced and voices became more and more distant, until loss of consciousness rendered him oblivious to the commotion around him.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Gibbs watched Tony sleep; desperately wanting him to wake up but at the same time, afraid of what would happen when he did. Tony looked a little thinner than he remembered, and he was so pale. Gibbs hoped the pallor was due to the blood loss and not ill health. Neither diminished the joy he felt on seeing him again…and gratitude. Gibbs had no idea what sort of reception to expect once Tony woke, but he was warm and alive, and Gibbs was grateful for the chance to find out where they stood. He hoped Tony would want to come back home.

 

A lot had changed back in DC. With Jenny gone, Ziva had opted to stay in Israel and removed from her influence, McGee was getting his shit together. He was flourishing again working in the cyber division and hoped to join the new team Gibbs was recruiting. Jenny Shepard had been removed from her position and had made one hell of a mess on her way out the door. They were still dealing with the fallout and it had delayed him from contacting and trying to reconcile with Tony.  He hoped that wouldn’t be added to the list of things he’d given Tony to hold against him.

 

Now this…he could have lost him before Tony ever even knew he’d recovered his memories of them together. He remembered how panic welled up in him yesterday when the hospital called with news of Tony’s injury. He’d been speaking with the new director in the bullpen when the call came and his reaction was so disconcerting to the man that Ducky had been called.

 

“Tony’s been shot,” he said numbly as he disconnected the call and turned to Ducky. 

 

“Oh dear,” Ducky breathed in dismay. “His condition?”

 

“Critical…he lost a lot of blood before they got him to the hospital.”

 

“Who is Tony?” Director Vance asked.

 

“My partner, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo,” Gibbs answered, not caring a bit how Vance would interpret that. If Tony took him back, the first thing that would change was their relationship being a secret. “I’m his medical proxy and next of kin. I need to go.” 

 

“Leave approved, Gibbs,” Vance agreed with a curt nod. “I’d like to know a little more about your partner…at a more appropriate time, of course.” 

 

Gibbs managed a mumble of agreement as he turned to the door; his mind was whirling trying to figure out how fast he could get to Groton.

 

He’d turned back as Ducky called out, “Keep us informed, Jethro.”

 

“I will, Duck,” he said as he reached the door.

 

“Jethro,” Ducky called once more. 

 

“Yeah?”

 

Ducky gave him a long look, full of meaning. “Good luck.”

 

“Thanks, Ducky,” he said, smiling at the show of support from his old friend.

 

Now he was sitting at DiNozzo’s bedside, hoping he wouldn’t get tossed out on his ass as soon as Tony opened his eyes. He couldn’t help his compulsion to touch, to feel the throb of Tony’s pulse under his fingers. He squeezed Tony’s hand, frowning at the chilled skin. Moving his hand up, Gibbs wrapped his hand around Tony’s wrist, pressing his fingers against the pulse point. He closed eyes burning with fatigue, and settled back in the chair to wait. 

 

He must have drifted off. He jerked as the sound of Tony’s voice snapped him out of his light doze.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Tony hated waking up in the hospital; hated the smells of antiseptic and sickness, the desert-dry air, and the fuzzy, drugged haze. He cracked his eyes open and stared in disbelief. This time, he wasn’t sure if it were the drugs or blood loss responsible for the impossible vision in front of him. 

 

He looked down to find the source of the warmth circling one wrist and saw Gibbs’ hand there. “Gibbs?” he whispered.

 

Gibbs’ eyes flew open. Profound relief and happiness welled up in his chest. “God Tony, I’m so glad you’re awake,” he exclaimed as he leaned over and pressed the button to alert the nurse’s station. 

 

“Am I dreaming?” he asked in a raspy voice.

 

“Nope.”

 

Tony frowned in confusion; he had no idea how to respond to Gibbs’ unexpected appearance at his bedside. Gibbs just kept looking at him, relief written plainly on his features but before Tony could question his presence, they were interrupted by the door opening.

 

A nurse peeked in, and then broke out in a friendly smile as she entered and approached the bed. “Ah, Mr. DiNozzo…you’re awake. It’s good to see you back with us. You did keep us on our toes for a bit,” she said with a wink. She looked over at Gibbs pointedly and asked “Would you mind waiting outside while I give Mr. DiNozzo a brief exam? This shouldn’t take long,” she said as she donned latex gloves.

 

Gibbs hesitated, looking over and half expecting Tony to ask Gibbs to stay. He didn’t, and it hurt more than he expected. “Of course,” he replied quietly. “I’ll be just outside Tony.” 

 

Tony didn’t answer; just watched him with a guarded expression while he stepped outside and paced anxiously.

 

“What happened?” Tony asked as the nurse unwrapped and checked his injured arm.

 

“Do you remember being shot?” she asked.

 

“Uh, yeah,” he answered as the pain from having his injury prodded ramped up significantly. “It didn’t seem all that serious at first.”

 

“Well, you were lucky,” she replied.

 

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Tony grouched as she checked his stitches, causing a bright flare of pain.

 

The nurse re-wrapped his arm as she explained, “The bullet nicked your brachial artery. Right about here,” she said pointing at the inside of her own bicep. “An injury to this artery can cause life-threatening blood loss. You’re lucky it was only a nick and that treatment began when it did.”

 

“Oh,” Tony offered weakly; a little surprised at his close call.

 

 

“All done,” the nurse said, patting his shoulder and removing her gloves. “Shall I let your friend back in, or would you rather rest?”

 

Tony stole a glance outside the door, where Gibbs still paced in agitation. He sighed; not sure he was ready for this but not wanting to put it off either. “He can come in,” Tony said reluctantly.

 

A few minutes later, Gibbs resettled himself in the chair next to Tony’s bed and laid his hand over Tony’s, seemingly without even thinking and Tony wasn’t at all sure how he felt about it. Time to get this over with, he thought. 

 

“Why are you here?” Tony asked quietly, his body tense and expression suddenly shuttered. Gibbs’ heart sank as Tony pulled his wrist from his grasp. 

 

“I’m still on your papers as next of kin.”

 

“Sorry you were inconvenienced,” Tony said coolly. “You can go back to Mexico now. You’re not responsible for me.”

 

“You think that’s the only reason I’m here? That I’m checking a box out of some sense of responsibility?” he said incredulously. 

 

“Aren’t you?” Tony shot back, hurt and anger helping to dispel the fog of the drugs he’d been given. 

 

“No, dammit!” The words tumbled out before Gibbs could stop them. “I’m here because I came back and I _remember_. I’m here because I was terrified I’d lose you before I got a chance to tell you! You almost bled out,” he said accusingly.

 

Tony’s heart pounded at the revelation and he didn’t know what to do with it. A few weeks ago, this would have been everything he wanted to hear. Now he didn’t trust it; didn’t trust Gibbs. 

 

“Tony?” Gibbs reached out to touch his face and he shied away from the hand. There was a flicker of pain in Gibbs’ eyes and he seemed to wilt at that, but he sat back and respected Tony’s unspoken need for space. 

 

“Madam Director pissed that you’re here?” Tony asked, changing the subject.

 

“She’s no longer a concern. Not for me and not for you. She’s been removed from the Director position.”

 

“ _What_? When did this happen?”

 

“It was a couple weeks or so ago. The powers that be are keeping it out of the news and out of agency communications. It’s all very hush hush,” Gibbs said. “I know what she tried to get you to do, Tony.”

 

Tony closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “She didn’t let it go, did she?” he guessed.

 

Gibbs shook his head. “La Grenouille? No. She killed him. He was in DC to see his daughter; she tracked him to his yacht and shot him,” Gibbs explained. “Jenny was investigated; we found her private files on Benoit, notes and journals going back years, including the ones that outlined her plan to have you become involved with Jeanne Benoit. Her plan all along was to draw him out and kill him. She used his arms dealing as justification to get you to go undercover and help her find him.”

 

“I tried to warn her to let it go,” Tony said regretfully, knowing Gibbs had once been fond of her. “She was obsessed.” 

 

“There was nothing anyone could have done to stop her,” Gibbs assured him. “The CIA has someone waiting in the wings to take Benoit’s spot and has no interest in seeing any of this come out in the wash. She’s been forced out and her career is done, but that’s it.”

 

“So they’re sweeping a murder under the rug,” Tony said distastefully.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What now?” Tony asked, confused and more than a little overwhelmed.

 

“Can we talk about us, Tony?”

 

Tony sighed and closed his eyes. “What if there’s no _us_ to talk about, Gibbs?”

 

Gibbs was crestfallen. He was ‘Gibbs’, not ‘Jethro’ now. He’d hurt Tony too deeply. “Is that how you feel?” he asked; heart in his throat.

 

“I don’t _know_ how I feel right now, Gibbs.” 

 

“I can tell you how _I_ feel, Tony. I know the damage I did by leaving that way; by forgetting what we had.”

 

Tears prickled behind Tony’s closed eyes and he clenched his fists, sending sharp pain shooting through his injured arm. But he didn’t stop Gibbs from speaking; he needed to hear this.

 

“I’m ashamed I forgot how much you meant to me. I can’t explain why it happened, but it’s not because it wasn’t real. It was as real as me and Shannon. Set aside those insecurities that say you weren’t good enough,” Gibbs entreated. “You were…you _are_.” 

 

Tony wanted so badly to believe, but he’d gotten used to being alone again. “I don’t have it in me to go through this again, Gibbs.” 

 

Gibbs itched to take Tony’s hand. “You won’t ever have to. What can I do to prove it to you?”

 

“I can’t do this right now, Gibbs. I’m sick, tired, and in pain. Not to mention foggy from the painkillers. I need some time to think when I don’t feel like crap.”

 

Gibbs nodded. Tony was vulnerable and wanted to find his equilibrium so he could feel on equal terms again. “Whatever you want, Tony. Just tell me there’s a chance.”

 

Tony sighed, agreeing reluctantly. “I’m driving down to Annapolis for a law enforcement conference in three weeks or so. I’ll be on the mend by then. I’ll stay for an extra couple days and we can meet; try to talk some things out.”

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Gibbs left Tony in Groton; giving him the time to recover and decide what he wanted, and if that would include him. Tony surprised him a few days later by reaching out first; calling him at NCIS to give him the upcoming dates and times he would be in Annapolis. Tony continued to rest and heal over the two weeks following that first call. During that time, they shared both easy, relaxed phone conversations and contentious ones where they worked through issues surrounding the outpouring of pain and loss in the letter Tony left him. 

 

They seemed to have come to an understanding and reached a point where they might be able to decide where their relationship would go from here. Gibbs knew what _he_ wanted but pressuring Tony was the wrong thing to do, so he just worked on his plan to convince Tony of the place he had in Gibbs’ life. He recalled Tony’s heartrending words in the hospital and how he’d responded.

 

_I don’t have it in me to go through this again, Gibbs._

 

_You won’t ever have to. What can I do to prove it to you?_

 

Today was the day he would see Tony again. He’d been working day and night on finishing the gift he hoped would prove to Tony how he felt, and was as nervous as he was the night he asked Shannon to marry him. If this didn’t convince Tony, he didn’t know what would. All his hopes hung on Tony’s response to his gift and his belief in what it meant. He climbed into a taxi and headed for Tony’s hotel.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Gibbs paced the lobby impatiently. Tony called to tell him the last day of the conference ran long and he wanted to shower before they met for dinner. Every time the elevator doors opened he stopped pacing only to be disappointed as a stranger stepped out each time. Finally, the doors opened and Tony stepped out. 

 

Damn, but he looked fantastic. He’d lost the pallor he had in the hospital and looked tan and healthy in jeans and a light V-neck sweater. When Tony turned in his room key to the front desk staff, he couldn’t help but check out his ass. Those jeans were snug in all the right places. He flushed as Tony turned and gave a bright smile on seeing him waiting there.

 

“Hey Jethro,” Tony greeted. “You look good.”

 

Gibbs smiled; he was back to being ‘Jethro’ and it was a start. “You too.”

 

“Let’s go, I’m starved,” Tony said as he hefted a bag on one shoulder, still favoring his injured arm a bit. “You said you made reservations?”

 

“Yeah…a place at the marina. You mind driving?”

 

Tony gave him a side eye glance as they walked toward his car. “Who are you, and what have you done with Gibbs? You want me to drive?”

 

Gibbs just shrugged and smiled. “Been a while since I’ve seen the Mustang.”

 

Tony shook a finger at him. “I know you; you’re up to something,” He teased as he unlocked the car and threw his bag in the back seat. “Okay, I’ll play along,” he said.

 

They drove to the marina in relative silence. Gibbs seemed preoccupied and nervous. It was out of character. Tony had always been preternaturally aware of Gibbs’ moods and responded instinctively. Gibbs was beginning to make Tony uneasy. 

 

When they arrived, Gibbs climbed out of the car and waited, staring out at the boats in the marina as Tony locked up.

 

“Jethro, we’ve been getting along fine these last couple of weeks with the phone calls, but you’re weirding me out right now.”

 

Gibbs looked chagrined. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Just tell me what’s going on with you.”

 

“I will…play along a little longer?” Gibbs asked, laying a tentative hand on Tony’s shoulder.

 

Tony reached up, placed his hand over Gibbs’ and gave a small smile.

 

“Come with me, I have something to show you before it gets dark.”

 

Tony looked at him quizzically, but followed as Jethro led him along one crowded pier, where boats and yachts of various sizes were tied up in the slips on either side.

 

“When you moved out Tony, you left something behind,” Jethro said out of nowhere.

 

Tony steps faltered and he tensed a bit at the unhappy memory. “Yeah, what?”

 

Jethro stopped and reached into his pocket and withdrew something and held his closed hand out to Tony. 

 

Tony reached out and Gibbs pressed a small brass key into his hand. “Whether you come home _to me_ or not Tony, the doors will never be locked to you.”

 

“Thanks Jethro. So…you have all your memories back?”

 

“I have the important ones.”

 

“You called me _McGee_ ,” he reminded with mock resentment in his voice.

 

Gibbs laughed. “I know, I remember…I’m sorry, okay?” Gibbs’ face went serious again. “I also remember saying the night before I got hurt that I had things to tell you. That when the boat was done, if you were still here, I’d tell you anything and everything you want to know.”

 

Gibbs gently took Tony’s shoulders and turned him toward the slip just ahead of them at the end of the pier. “The boat’s done,” he said meaningfully. “It’s yours.”

 

Tony’s jaw dropped; he recognized it immediately. “Oh my god…this is our boat.” He just stared for a moment and finally managed to ask. “What are you saying here, Jethro?”

 

“That I’m ready to let you in; to put an end to the secrets and break the bad habits that kept us in limbo. These last months without you, I learned some things,” Gibbs said earnestly. “The past is the past. I can’t fix it, I can’t change it, and I can't live in it. All I can do is try to build a future; make new memories. I want to do that with you, if you’ll have me.”

 

Tony was still shocked at the boat. “You built me a boat. I’m not dead, you know; and I didn’t leave you. You left _me_.”

 

“I know, Tony. Ever since Shannon, I've been building boats for all the ones who've left me behind one way or the other. This boat isn’t about loss and abandonment. It’s meant to be sailed; it always was. I just wasn’t ready to tell you yet.”  Gibbs braced himself for rejection. “This boat was never about exorcising demons or the ones who left, it’s a gift for the one I hope will stay. That's you, Tony.” 

 

Tony felt the last of his resistance melting away. He was drawn to the beautiful sailboat, and walked along the slip for a closer look.  

 

Gibbs followed Tony as he took in the boat. His heart pounded in his chest; he was uncertain about what Tony was thinking, and whether his silence was good or bad. Had he done enough to win Tony back?

 

Tony paused at the stern of the boat, taking in the name, and then looked back at Gibbs bemusedly. Knowing Gibbs, the name he’d selected was something deeply meaningful. With a raised eyebrow, he queried “Breaking Habits”? 

 

Gibbs offered a tentative smile. “It’s about letting go of all the reservations and bad habits that kept me from giving you, and our relationship one hundred percent. It means I’m all in, Tony, and you deserve nothing less. I’d do anything; give anything to make you happy.”

 

Tony’s throat tightened as joy, and a myriad of other emotions rose in his chest. This was what he’d always hoped for; that Gibbs would finally be able to give all of himself without reservation. What more of a declaration could he ask for? He swallowed down the lump in his throat, ready to give Gibbs his answer. “I thought you said you weren’t into grand romantic gestures. When you _do_ get it in your head to make one, you go all out don’t you?”

 

“Is it working? Come back and I’ll tell you how I broke the bottle,” Gibbs bargained with a sly smile.

 

“I guess I’m going to have to now, seeing _that_ little secret is on the table,” Tony teased. “Besides, I can’t have you going back without me and burning my boat in the backyard, Jeth.”

 

Gibbs smiled at the nickname making a reappearance. “Is that a yes?”

 

“Depends…” Tony said, rubbing his chin and looking thoughtfully at the boat.

 

“On?” 

 

“You _did_ put a bed onboard there somewhere, right?”

 

Gibbs’ face broke out in a rare wide grin and the blue eyes shone with relief. “Ya think?”

 

Tony moved nearer and cupped Gibbs’ cheek. His green eyes were luminous and happy as the hand slid around to the back of Gibbs’ neck and gently pulled him closer. Tony touched his forehead to Gibbs’ and then their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss. Gibbs’ hand stole up along Tony’s arm and shoulder to his face, where his fingers brushed lovingly across Tony’s skin. The kiss felt like coming home to them both and they pulled apart reluctantly. “How about a tour?” Tony asked with a soft smile.

 

They climbed aboard and Tony admired the workmanship and gleaming wood as Gibbs pointed out the various features above deck. Then by unspoken agreement and hand in hand, they went below. They broke apart just long enough to secure the hatch; and then set out to get reacquainted with every inch of each other and make the first of many new memories on Tony’s new boat.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

AN: So ends my first full-length Tony/Gibbs story. I hope you enjoyed it and if you'd like to leave a comment, I'd love to hear from you.


End file.
